


Just a feeling

by ForWhomTheBellTolls



Category: Supernatural
Genre: And Dean loves it, And his bitching in the bedroom, But they both wanted this for a long time, Dean also loves Sam’s hair, Dean fantasies about Sam in womens panties, Dean has a kink about Sam’s bitching, Excessive Drinking, First Time, Happy Ending, He also has a kink for Sam’s Bitch Faces, Hey! Don’t kink shame him!, Hopeful Ending, It just gets him going, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, POV Dean Winchester, Sam is a demanding little shit, Since they’re both tipsy when they do the deed, Top Dean Winchester/Bottom Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 08:01:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17659046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForWhomTheBellTolls/pseuds/ForWhomTheBellTolls
Summary: Dean and Sam decides to celebrate a successful hunt with whiskey. It turns out that a little liquid courage goes a long way with them.(The one where Sam gets a little too tipsy and demanding, Dean gets drunk off of Sam, and they both end up somewhere they’ve always wanted to be: In bed. Together.)





	Just a feeling

**Author's Note:**

> Note: The Mildly Dubious Consent tag is there because both Sam and Dean are tipsy when they finally do the deed. But they’ve been wanting this for ages. So I don’t know if it’s still dubious consent, or not. I’ve put it in the tags as Dubious Consent just in case.

There was no heaven for Dean Winchester. He knew that. After everything he did... yeah, there was no pearly gates for him when he finally hit the dust.

Maybe that’s why it was so easy to give in to something he should have fought like hell to avoid.

Sometimes, when he drank with Sam and the kid got a little too tipsy, it was a struggle to fight against what his mind, body and soul was clamoring for. Which was Sam. Sam, who was so happy and malleable when he was past the tipsy point, and on the road to being hammered. Dean had to beat the desire back until it was a dark, ugly smudge that he then slammed behind a shield of sick and disgusting denial, a secret that he kept so well that not even Alastair managed to claw it out of him.

The secret of just how crazy Sam made him feel.

It was even harder when he knew Sam felt the same way. Always had. Always will.

It was the way he looked at him. The way he smiled. The way he moved closer, when they had countless space in the bunker. 

And Dean was only human.  
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

 

When they got back to the bunker after a simple salt ‘n’ burn and Sam decided that they should celebrate with a little whiskey, Dean knew he should have said no. Should have known that the situation would get out of control, especially with the way Sam was careful in keeping his face casual and his body relaxed. Too careful, and a little too relaxed.

But just as Dean was about to open his mouth, Sam got that puppy dog look that always made him weak in the knees, and hard pressed to deny him anything.

Before he even knew it, he was agreeing, and watching as Sam’s face split into a smile large enough to flash dimples. 

How long has it been since he saw his little brother smile with such happiness?

Too damn long.

He wanted to keep that smile on the kid’s face. Keep it there, and taste it.

So, a couple hours later found them seated next to each other in the library, sipping on their who-the-hell-knows-how-many glasses of whiskey. Sam has slowly grown closer in the time that went by, until the overgrown Sasquatch was leaning against him, his body heat like a brand all along Dean’s side. The kid’s face was flushed, and his eyes were a little glassy. Sam never could handle his liquor well, not like Dean could.

It made his dick twitch, his jeans tightening uncomfortably. Dean shifted, trying to hide his sudden interest, at the same time trying to get more room in his pants for ‘Little Dean’ to stop being smothered.

Of course, Sam didn’t notice. The kid was too far gone to be as sharp as a tack as he usually is.

Instead, he was talking about dogs. Dogs, of all things! 

Seriously, the kid was such a nerd.

“The puppy was one of those dogs that would get huge, right? Big paws.” Sam raised his own massive paws for a demonstration, and Dean took a sip of whiskey, needing the drink if he was going to be a great big brother and actually listen to this shit. Seriously, dogs. Ugh. 

Sam continued after taking a huge gulp from his own glass, emptying it. Without thinking, Dean poured more in Sam’s glass, before topping off his own and setting aside the almost empty bottle of cheap whiskey. His brother gave a smile of thanks before continuing his story. Oh joy. “And this woman walking by thought he was going to attack her, so she began screaming and tried to hit the poor thing with her purse! So I stopped her, then went to the dog to see if he was hurt. He was such a good boy!” Sam nearly gushed, eyes sparkling as he clearly remembered the puppy. “He wasn’t going to attack at all. He only wanted to play.”

Sam gave a dreamy sigh, before drinking some more from his glass.

Dean wanted to puke at the sweetness of it all. He held it off manfully, and simply drowned himself in alcohol.

Freaking dogs, man. And freaking drunk little brothers who go crazy about those dogs.

Dean could be a dog. He could show Sam just how much of a dog he could be...

He got a flash of shoving Sam down onto his hands and knees, and just rutting into him, forcing his little brother to make noises that would make anyone come within seconds of hearing it.

Fuck.

Dean shifted again, his dick more than half-hard now.

Great. Just what he needed, an erection while little bro talked about dogs.

He shook his head, scoffing.

If anything, hearing his little brother talk about dogs should have made ‘Little Dean’ as limp as a noodle. 

Of course his luck never held up.

“Dean,” Sam’s voice brought him back to the present. When he looked up, his brother was eyeing him, brow furrowed with that familiar look of concern. “You ok, man?”

It was an easy question. One that Dean should have been able to answer, no problem. 

But Sam thought it was a good idea to touch his leg, and all thought left his brain. So he was left staring at Sam with wide eyes as he felt that big paw of a hand near, so fucking near his dick. His dick that was hardening even more, obvious with only a glance.

And Sam did glance. Those amazing slanted fox-like hazel eyes fell down, landed on the obvious bulge, and widened. But, Dean noticed immediately, the kid didn’t look away.

In fact, he was staring so hard that it made Dean almost feel it. His cock throbbed noticeably. He couldn’t help but helplessly watch as Sam swallowed hard at that.

Those eyes flicked back up, darkening. “Dean...” it was a breath of air, everything in there that should be hidden. Desire, hunger, want-

No man could withstand a wordless plea like that. And Dean was only human.

“Sammy,” Dean exhaled as he felt his brother’s hand slowly and softly creep upwards. He couldn’t look away from Sam. Sam, who was silently begging for more. “We can’t-“

“We can,” Sam interrupted him, shaking his head, suddenly intense. “We deserve it, Dean. After all the shit we’ve been through... hell, we’re owed this.”

How could Dean fight against something that he wholeheartedly agreed with?

Did he even want to fight it?

No. 

Hell no he didn’t.

“Screw it.” He growled, and Sammy’s face brightened like a fucking firework, dimples popping out and teeth flashing.

Seeing the look of pure joy and happiness on his baby brother’s face, something that Dean himself put on there- 

Well, it definitely made the next step easy.

Which was to kiss Sammy.  
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

 

It was hot. His body was thrumming, feeling alive. 

And maybe with alcohol, but that was besides the point.

Sam Winchester was, hands-down, one of the most beautiful sights in the world. Maybe Dean was biased, but seeing that extra-long and muscled body stretched out naked on his bed, shamelessly spreading out his huge muscular thighs, and an equally huge dripping cock-

Dean was struck breathless.

Which was cheesy as all hell.

“You’re gonna turn me into a sap,” he couldn’t help but grumble, even as he kneeled between Sam’s thighs, hands caressing the bunches up muscles on tight abs. Even at over 30 years old, Sammy managed to keep his body physically fit with all his jogging, push-ups and sit-ups. Dean glanced down at his own stomach, and grimaced. Definitely not gonna skip gym-day tomorrow. 

They had moved things from the library over to Dean’s bedroom after things got hot-and-heavy, and after Sammy almost hit his head on the edge of the table when Dean had pulled him off the chair to try and bend him over said table. 

Hey, you can’t blame him for wanting to fuck the gigantor doggy-style on the table that they usually did research on. Dean has had way too many wet-dreams of that very scene to not try it at least once, now that he has the go-ahead.

But yeah, maybe for the first time a bed would be better.

And Sam was looking blissed out over there on his bed, his eyes half-closed as he watched Dean through his lashes, those eyes darkened with hunger. “You say that as if you aren’t one already.”

“Hey,” he frowned up at him, even as he slid one hand down to unbuckle his own jeans and take his cock out, the flesh twitching like crazy and not a little wet. “what did I say about chick-flick moments?” He asked, rubbing his cock absently, still more focused on Sam.

His little brother rolled his eyes, the bitch.

Before Dean could say anything, maybe tease his little brother some more, Sam gave a loud huff, -seriously, the kid could blow a house down with the power of his lungs! - before reaching down and grabbing Dean by the collar of his shirt, yanking him up with a force that made Dean’s cock jerk at all the possibilities. Dean fell on top of Sam’s naked body with a gasp of surprise, their cocks mashing together perfectly. 

“Shut up, and kiss me,” Sam demanded roughly, lips a breath apart from his, before claiming Dean’s mouth for his own.

And hell if Dean remembered what he had been about to do or say before.

All he could think of was Sam’s tongue fucking into his mouth, sending shivers down his spine like he was freaking being electrocuted. He couldn’t stop the groan, or the small hump that his hips began to do, making their cocks rub and slide through sticky and wet pre on Sammy’s tight abs. 

“Didn’t think you were such a good kisser, little brother.” Dean couldn’t help but pull back to tease with a smirk, lips tingling.

A muscle jumped in Sam’s jaw as he clenched his teeth, and Dean was suddenly gifted with bitch face #15. The one that clearly stated that Sammy wasn’t going to take any shit from Dean.

Cute.

Not that Dean would ever say out loud. 

All thought screeched to a halt as he heard Sam say nonchalantly, “With all the experience you have, I would have thought the same thing about you. But after that kiss... well, I guess old dogs can’t learn new tricks, huh?”

It was obviously a challenge. A jab to prod Dean into action. 

Dean didn’t mind ‘rising’ to it.

“Oh, buddy,” Dean told him, voice gone low and deep. “You don’t wanna go there.”

Sam licked his lips, then gave a small smirk. A dare in his eyes. “Uh, yeah,” he huffed out a small laugh, tossing his head to flick back a piece of hair that was in his face. “I’m pretty sure that I do.”

Fucking tease.

Dean loved it.

“Gonna make you eat those words, little brother,” he rasped, lips sliding into a wicked smile wide enough to show teeth. 

“That’s what I keep hearing,” Sam responded, his own teeth flashing in a smile just as wicked, with the added bonus of those dimples on top. “But I’ve yet to see you show me, Dean.”

Shit. Who knew being bitched at would be so sexy?

Dean was all for it.

With a growl, he crashed their mouths together, hard enough to make Sam gasp and to taste the bright heady copper of blood. He licked inside, wanting more of that taste, wanting more of Sam, fucking his tongue so deep that he could feel Sam almost choke on it. Desire was a sharp ache twisting his stomach, double-edged and all-consuming. And by the way Sam arched up to grind their dripping cocks together while high-pitched moans came from the back of his throat, only to be swallowed down by Dean, it’s safe to say that Dean wasn’t the only one going crazy.

Dean pulled away to rasp, “Gonna fuck you up, baby boy,” his lips slid down, biting at Sam’s chin before dropping to lick at the sweat collecting on Sammy’s neck. Salty. Tasty. Addictive as fuck. “Gonna wreck you for anyone else. Show them that you’re mine.”

The groan was all the answer Dean needed.  
____

If Dean was ever told by some psychic, (or hell, even some witch) that he would have the pleasure to finally be finger-fucking Sammy in his late thirties, he would call BS before making sure that they could never tell a soul about his desire for his little brother. With the persuasion of a gun, of course.

The fact that he had three fingers deep inside Sammy, and that the gigantor was going crazy because of it- hell, it beat all the Busty Asians and hentai in the whole damn world!

The Sasquatch was loving every second of it, moaning and writhing, arching his hips up to demand more, making that hard cock of his jump everywhere. His hair was messy beyond belief, because Dean found it hard not to grab onto it, loving the soft, silky feel, and loving how Sammy jerked and gasped when he pulled on it to bare his throat to nip and suck his marks all along that thick, tanned skin. 

Dean licked his lips. Sammy made all his wet dreams look weak compared to the real thing. 

Dean lost his shirt sometime ago, but he still wore his jeans, unbuttoned, with his cock straining hard pulled out, which made Sam hungry to touch whenever he glanced down and saw it. Dean had to force Sams huge paws away more than once, because if Sammy got his way and touched him, then everything would be over. Dean was that close to loosing it. And though Dean hated to even think it, he wasn’t young anymore. He couldn’t recover as quickly as he used to. Hell, he might not even recover at all tonight, and then it would be officially game over. And who knew if he would ever get another chance to fuck Sam?

Alcohol made it easy to not think about what would happen tomorrow, how this would change their whole lives. For the good, or for the worst. And Dean was still sober enough to understand that, but tipsy enough to not care. 

And Sammy... he was just a mess.

Dean loved it.

The bottle of lube that Dean had grabbed from under his bed was tossed aside, not needed anymore. They used up more than half the bottle. Maybe overkill, but Dean wanted to see Sammy’s hole stretched out and leaking. It was so wet that it was almost like Sammy was a girl, leaking his arousal everywhere. 

Dean’s breath hitched, desire punching him in the gut.

The sudden image that flashed through his mind of Sammy wearing a skirt, pulled up and waiting desperately for Dean to fuck his drenched wet hole....

Fuck. That was too fucking hot to be legal.

Next time, he thought, desperate to hold off coming. Next time he’ll try and encourage Sammy to wear a skirt, maybe even girl panties. Next time-

If there is a next time.

Sam made a strangled sound when Dean, wanting to not think anymore, leaned down and bit his hip, cheek and nose bumping into hard flesh. Fingers still plunging into him, (now four, which, God, made him want to try for the whole hand, and maybe even the whole arm! Just fuck Sammy with his whole fist and arm until the kid screamed and came from being fisted-) Dean smirked up at his brother. “Think you’re ready, Sammy?”

“Was a long time ago,” was his panted reply, sweat drenched and sexy as all hell. He was squirming, that big body spasming, and Dean could feel Sammy clench and unclench around his fingers, like it was just begging to be fucked.

Far be it from Dean to refuse such a clear plea.

“Alright, Baby boy,” he couldn’t stop his voice from deepening, husky and filled with excitement. Sam shuddered, his eyes fluttering shut as Dean continued to speak. “Gonna fill you up now.” He moved up, grabbing himself to line up with the twitching opening of Sam’s body, the head of his cock being teased relentlessly by slick kisses from that stretched out pink and leaking hole.

“Oh God,” Sam groaned, throwing a arm over his eyes as though hiding. “Dean, stop talking like we’re in some bad porno!”

“What’d ya have against bad pornos?” He couldn’t help but ask, even as he inched his dick inside Sam, gasping sharply at how tight and wet it all was. Not only that, but it was all but milking him, almost like it was begging to have all of his cock inside. Sam groaned again, but this time it was because he was having his ass split open by a thick, long cock. Dean wanted to focus and have Sam make more noise for him, but he also had to get to the bottom of this distaste of bad pornos that his little brother seems to have. “They’re classic, and not only that, but-“

He was cut off mid-sentence as Sam leaned up and kissed him, tongue plunging in, demanding. Long legs wrapped around Dean’s hips, pushing him even deeper into tight wet heat that made a wash of cold and hot shivers roll down his spine. He couldn’t help but thrust hard, burying himself into Sam balls deep, flesh smacking against flesh, making both of them let out a loud grunt.

Sam pulled back, lips swollen and red, normally hazel eyes now only a sliver of deep green with pupils blown out wide and dimples flashing as he smirked. “Shut up, and fuck me.”

Dean couldn’t remember what he had been talking about, but he did know one thing: he could definitely get on board with Sam’s demand.

He pushed back, his dick reappearing, shiny with lube. Both of them watched as he shoved his cock back in Sam, and both hissed. Dean with pleasure, and in Sammy’s case, both pleasure and pain. It was so tight that it almost hurt, and Dean was worried for a moment that he didn’t stretch Sam out enough. But when he looked, Sam had a blissed out look on his face that clearly said that he was loving it, maybe even more than Dean, and that was saying something. 

Still, didn’t hurt to be careful.

Gritting his teeth, trying to ignore the instinct to just fuck Sam into his memory foam, he rolled his hips, grinding into Sam, making sure to trap his brother’s cock between their stomach. Surprisingly, it hadn’t lost any of it’s hardness. 

After a long while of that, Sam eventually groaned out, “Dean, the hell you doin’?”

“What’s it look like?” He replied, breathless. He nipped at Sam’s chin, just because it was there. “I’m fucking you.”

“No, you aren’t,” Sam told him, jaw clenching as Dean moved on from his chin, to his jaw, and finally to his neck. “You’re treating me like I’m some kinda delicate flower... or something!”

“You kinda look like a flower,” Dean murmured against his neck, focused more on sucking a mark into Sam’s flesh than on the conversation. And who the hell had a full-fledged conversation in the middle of having sex? Leave it to Sam to try and talk in the middle of getting busy. “All pink and red, and spread out...”

“Dean!” Sam snapped, and made bitch face #5, which conveyed to Dean that he was an idiot. Great. “I’m not delicate. I can take it, whatever you got. So either fuck me so hard that I can’t walk for days afterwards, or get the hell off of me!”

Well, shit.

The zing of lust that went from head to dick at hearing that made him shudder, chills sliding over his skin as his eyes fell shut, groaning. 

When he finally controlled himself from spilling like a over-hormonal teen having sex for the first time, he slit his eyes open and glared down at Sam through his lashes, who glared back, the little bitch.

“So you gonna just lie there like a dead fish,” his little brother asked through gritted teeth. “or are you gonna man up and screw your little brother’s brains out?”

“Jesus, Sammy...” Dean couldn’t help but breath, his body shuddering. “You’re killing me here-“

“And you’re killing me by not moving!” Sam snapped, “So move!”

Far be it for Dean to ignore a command that he wholeheartedly wanted to do in the first place.

“Fuck,” he breathed as he held Sam’s legs open wide and began to seriously hammer into him. His little brother threw his head back, hair going everywhere as he gave a long deep-throated moan, and Dean could swear that Sam was milking him for everything he was worth. “Fuck, fuck, fuck-“

It was honestly the only thing in his brain at that moment.

The sound of their bodies smacking together, loud and obscene, was really making it hard to not spill within seconds. Dean let out a sharp breath, letting his body fall to drill even deeper. He nuzzled his face into Sam’s hair, breathing deep. Sweat, the cologne that Sam wore, and Sam’s natural scent. Plus the musk of sex, from both of them. And...

He could smell himself on Sam.

Perfect. Everything was perfect. 

“D-Dean-!” Sam’s voice, stuttering on a harsh gasp, before Dean felt him spasm, a hot wash of liquid spreading between their belly’s.

Dean pushed up onto his elbows, needing to see, to watch.

Sammy’s head was thrown back with his mouth wide open, blissed out of his mind expression as his whole body jerked, long thick cock jumping. So wet, everywhere. The sharp scent of sex grew even more pungent, and all because Sammy came from Dean fucking him. He didn’t even have to touch himself.

Dean jerked, breath stuttering on a sharp inhale.

Son-of-a-bitch-

A growl echoed around the room as Dean finally let himself go, slamming into Sam over and over again. Harsh panting breaths, grunts and the sound of flesh smacking flesh was the only thing he could focus on as his body stiffened, warmth washing over him as pleasure so sharp that it was almost painful zapped through his whole nerves. He hastily leaned down and latched onto salty wet skin, biting as he spilled into tight warmth that milked him of everything.

He could swear that he saw stars flashing as he groaned into the skin he was latched on to. An answering groan let him know that Sam would have agreed with him on the star thing if he could.

It took a while before Dean came back to himself. Actually, when he finally did, he was positive that he had blacked out, because when he came to, he could hear Sam grumbling underneath him about his neck hurting and also Dean was being a dick passing out on top of him, since he was so heavy.

Rude bitch. 

He refused to admit that the thought was more than fond.

He unclenches his teeth from the flesh he was still biting, (though he was barely latched on, since he had kinda blacked out, but he would deny that fact until the day he died- and not even then, because fuck you, Sam!) and raised his head, moving his jaw side-to-side to try and ease the ache.

When his fucked blurred vision finally focused after he blinked a few times, he was met with a irritated glare from one very aware and sober Sam Winchester.

“Are you done? Because you’re squishing me.”

“Uh,” was Dean’s smart reply, brain still trying to reboot after that amazing orgasm.

If anything, Sam’s glare grew. “Get off.”

Right.

Dean pushed himself up on shaky arms, little Dean, now soft but still sticky, sliding out of Sam with a soft but obvious squelching sound. He saw Sam wince, but he didn’t say anything as he moved to the side. He settled on his back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He couldn’t bring himself to understand what happened to bring them both here, to this moment.

But whatever happened, he knew that he didn’t regret it.

He had a horrible feeling that Sam might.

He was afraid to check. 

One thing was for sure though; they were both definitely sober.

There was silence for a while, tense and expectant. Then, a soft huff.

“Dean...” 

He stiffened, expecting the worst.

But this was Sam.

The kid always managed to surprise him, no matter what. 

“I’m sorry.”

“What?” Dean said, surprised, eyes flying towards the man next to him. 

Sam sat up, pulling the discarded sheets over his lap. His shoulders were hunched, overly long girly hair (soft, so soft that it made Dean’s hands tingle) falling over his face, almost like he was trying to hide. 

It was like Dean was looking at a kicked puppy, and he hated it.

Dean sat up and reached out, grabbing Sam’s shoulder with a hand. Squeezed, firmly. “What’s wrong?”

His brother let out a long shaky breath, running big paws through his hair and pushing it back behind his ears as he raised his head to give Dean the saddest puppy dog eyes that he’s ever seen. Seriously, his heart felt like it would just break apart at how sad and young the kid looked. “Don’t act like you don’t know, Dean.”

Dean was confused, and now getting pissed off because Sam looked like he was blaming himself for something, which was just stupid but it was such a Sam thing to do, and it instantly made Dean’s big brother hackles rise, challenged. “The hell you talking ‘bout, Sam?”

A muscle jumped near his jaw as Sam clenched his teeth, chewing on whatever he was struggling to get out, before he finally bit out, “You were drunk,” 

Dean raised his brows, waiting for the rest of it. When there wasn’t anymore, he prompted, “Yeah, and?”

Sam shook his head sharply, a disbelieving huff of breath escaping. “Dean, I basically got you drunk and had my way with you!” His voice rose at the end, sounding way too panicked and self-disgusted for Dean’s comfort. “That’s- I can’t believe- How could I-“

“Hey, hey, hey!” Dean cut him off, grabbing both shoulders now with his hands and shaking him roughly. “You gotta be kiddin’ me, Sammy. You honestly think I was drunk enough to do something that I didn’t wanna do? Huh?” He shook him some more for emphasis. “Come on, Sam! Use that big brain of yours, and think!“

The big lug stared at him through watery eyes for a long moment.

“We deserve this,” Dean reminded him after a long moment of eye contact, voice as serious as he could make it. He had to get this through Sam’s big head, had to make Sam see that Dean had been (and is) on board with whatever they had going between them. That he’s always wanted this, and using a little liquid courage to get where they finally needed to be won’t ruin it. Hell, nothing could ruin it. Nothing. “We deserve it after everything we went through. Right, Sammy?”

Sam’s grew still, eyes widening, looking scared, happy, thrilled, beyond terrified. 

Excited.

“Dean...”

He gave a half smile, relieved to see him calm down. “Yeah,”

“But, I got you drunk-“

“And it takes more than a couple of shots to affect me, Sam. You know that. Besides, you’re the one who was stumblin’ and slurrin’ everywhere. Maybe you should blame me for takin’ advantage of you. Ever think of that?”

Sam gave him a bitch face, the one that told Dean he was an idiot. “That- Dean, I’m the one who first started to touch you...” he trailed off, becoming shy all of a sudden, face darkening as he lowered his head, hair falling forward, and the kid looked as though he was trying to hide.

It was too cute, which should be weird, but it wasn’t.

Nothing about Sammy was too weird for Dean. And he could only hope that Sam felt the same way about him, because he definitely had a lot of weird thoughts going through his head. Most of them sex-related. Like the panties. Sam wearing girl panties and nothing else while bent over the table in the kitchen...oh hell yeah!

But Dean couldn’t allow himself to get sidetracked. They needed to have this talk. “You hear me complaining, Sammy?” Dean asked, “Because I don’t. If I wasn’t on board with this whole thing from the beginning, I would sure as hell let you know. So stop blaming yourself for something that isn’t true.” 

When Sam still seemed hesitant, Dean decided to hell with it. 

He kissed him.

Sam stiffened, surprised, but Dean didn’t mind. He pressed closer to him, sliding easily onto the Sasquatch’s lap and straddling him, their bodies slotting together perfectly, feeling safe and warm. 

Home. Like he was home. 

That was way too sappy, but Dean was too distracted by Sam finally relaxing and opening his mouth to be embarrassed by that thought.

Soft, gentle, everything good in that kiss.

Warmth curled from his chest to stomach, and if he hadn’t just had an amazing orgasm from amazing sex, Dean was sure that he would have grown hard just from this.

“Feel that?” he asked, voice a rough rasp. “That’s me kissing you.” 

Sam looked like he was having trouble focusing, eyes blown wide and mouth slack. He looked completely undone. And Dean wanted more.

“Feel this?” He ran a hand slowly down Sam’s sternum, feeling the gigantor’s heart beating like crazy against his palm. It gave him a secret thrill to know that he made that happen. That he made Sammy as crazy as Sam made Dean feel. “That’s me touching you,” 

While Sam had trouble breathing, swallowing hard, Dean leaned forward and softly nipped his chin. That stubborn chin that he saw more than once jut out with that special bullheadedness of his.

“And that’s me tasting you,” he rasped, his own breathing shaky.

Sam gave a soft hitch of a moan.

God, the things he wanted to do to his little brother-

“You see me drunk, Sammy?” He demanded roughly.

Well, not drunk on alcohol, but maybe drunk on something else completely, he acknowledged.

But like hell he’ll ever say that out loud.

Sam seemed to be overwhelmed, breathless and trying to get even closer, so close that they could feel each other’s heartbeat, thumping against each other’s chest, like something trapped alive between them. It shuddered through them, everything that they ever felt for each other that they couldn’t ever hope to describe. But they felt it, and Sam seemed determined to chase it. 

The kid always was too determined for his own good.

And Dean loved that. Always admired that about Sam. That determined, stubborn, pigheadedness of his has helped Dean many times before. Has kept Dean going when he felt like the world wanted nothing of him but for him to roll over and be fucked over completely.

Sam was his light. His hope. His belief. His past, present and future.

And Dean was whatever Sam wanted him to be. 

And he had a hunch that Sam felt the same way about him.

Call it a feeling.


End file.
